


Relapse

by Spockykins



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Drug Addiction, I think i'm going to continue this but for rght now its just sad, M/M, Post-Season Finale, Relapse, Suicidal Thoughts, no its uhh pretty sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-05-31 15:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19428937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spockykins/pseuds/Spockykins
Summary: Klaus never thought of sobriety as something permanent. It was only a matter of time before the voices became too much.





	1. Chapter 1

Klaus hadn’t been this sober since he was a teenager. 

Everything seemed to be back to normal. Through whatever magic Five pulled, Ben was back. Well, Ben had his body back and everyone could see him, not just Klaus. No one but Five and Ben seemed to understand the science behind it, but those two were always smarter than the rest of them. Mom and Pogo were back, Dad was still dead, the house wasn’t all… melty. The world was as good as it could be, Klaus supposed. 

Anyway, the apocalypse was over and there didn’t appear to be any threat looming on the horizon. People mostly went back to their own lives and fixing whatever damages the Hargreeves children had caused to the people they care about. No one seemed concerned about what Klaus did, or where he went… and he still wasn’t taken seriously or included in family meetings, despite being clean for over a month and a half now. He was eccentric, not high. Luther didn’t seem to buy it, much to the annoyance of Diego. 

There really didn’t seem to be any reason to stay sober at this point. The ghosts were still constantly hounding him. His family obviously didn’t care about him enough to worry about his sobriety. Not that it was their responsibility to keep him sober, or anything. Klaus just thought, maybe, all of them almost dying together would change their perspectives. 

All of them, except for Diego, were still living under the same roof. A few doors apart, actually. Diego, before, seemed to be the only person who actually cared about his well-being. When Klaus was missing, Diego was the reason he was found. Diego saved him from getting the shit kicked out of him in a bar full of a bunch of pathetic assholes. Fine, a bar of really strong war vets. Diego would brush Klaus off as a stoner who wasn’t fully functioning and would combust if he didn’t have Diego’s support, but was he wrong?

Now, not even Diego was there, with his weird way of caring for Klaus. Apparently, he was trying to get back into the police academy. Good for him.  
Meanwhile, Klaus was on his own private downward spiral. He’d already regressed from cigarettes, to cigarettes and weed, to now cigarettes, weed, and the occasional drink, when the mood struck. And the mood struck almost all the time. The natural next step was coke or whatever pill was available. His powers couldn’t even summon Ben anymore. There weren’t ghosts lingering around him with powers that can help him save his family, again. What did he matter, anyway? They had Vanya, working tirelessly to control her newly discovered powers. What good did speaking to the dead do, in comparison to his siblings? 

Klaus didn’t really understand the downside of doing drugs, at this point. People say it’s dangerous, or whatever, but the thoughts he was having without the drugs to numb the pain had to be at least as dangerous as the drugs themselves. Plus, he’d died multiple times from overdosing and was always dragged back to the land of the living. Who would care if he didn’t come back this time? 

It was nine at night, and Klaus sat in the living room, at the now half-empty bar. He’d spent a majority of the day trying to not grab a drink and, instead, smoking anything he could get his hands on. Mostly, he’d been waiting to see if anyone would tell him not to grab a drink. Push him in the right direction. But everyone’d been busy. Even Ben, who Klaus was so used to have hovering, was somewhere else catching up on all the non-Klaus related things he’d missed while he was dead. 

Luther had been the only one to acknowledge Klaus at all that day He’d entered the room and gave Klaus a look. He’d been giving these looks a lot lately. They were assessing, as if he was trying to decide if something was wrong. Or, in Klaus’s case, if he was high. After a second, he’d decide that trying to help Klaus was not worth the effort, or something. His gaze would then shift from concerned to judgemental before he’d leave the room.

Klaus wasn’t even worth the effort of asking if he was alright. He didn’t blame Luther. In fact, he blamed himself for allowing Luther to get such a poor view of him. Growing up, Klaus would over-share. He’d complain about Dad to whoever would listen. He’d hide in Diego or Ben’s beds when there was a thunderstorm and the ghosts were particularly rowdy. He’d feed into any impulse he felt, not caring how it affected himself or others. Even before the whole addicted-to-cocaine thing, there didn’t seem to be much reason to want to even spend time with Klaus, let alone go out of the way to help him. 

He had had enough of the voices. The screaming for his help in countless languages he didn’t speak and struggled to comprehend. He didn’t want to become some vigilante, running around and solving peoples’ murders. He didn’t sign up for this. No one else’s abilities, save for maybe Vanya’s, tormented them every second. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t he throw things with precision like Diego? Or be able to speak whatever he wanted into reality, like Allison? 

He grabbed the first bottle of liquor he could find and went to his room. He shut the door behind him. He figured drowning himself in cheap tequila might be a good distraction from cocaine.

A relapse isn’t always saying “fuck this,” running outside, finding the first drug dealer you can find, then taking so many drugs of questionable origin in a seedy club. Sometimes, a relapse is climbing out the window of your childhood bedroom, finding an old dealer, and getting so high that you get lost in the city you spent your entire life in, then pass out in an alley. 

Turns out, tequila wasn’t just a leg spreader. It also made you forget your worries and completely demolished your impulse control. Klaus had downed half the bottle and, truly, could see no issue with contacting an old dealer. 

With the speed he could get into contact with a dealer within walking distance, Klaus was surprised that he’d made it this long without relapsing. “Walking distance” turned out to be a twenty minute walk, but the alcohol in his system made him resistant to the cold. He thought maybe something would magically appear to convince him this was a bad idea. His siblings calling him back, Ben somehow appearing, his own damn conscience leading him down the right path for once…

But no, this wasn’t a Hallmark film. His conscience seemed to have left a long time ago. He’d run from the house when he realized no one cared if he was sober or not. He got more attention when he was high, so he should be high. Drugs were suddenly all he could think about.

Before he knew it, he was in an alley with his former dealer, Tom. You’d think a drug dealer would have some cool nickname like T-Money or something. Not Tom. He was startling normal. He’d fit in perfectly in the Target grocery aisle on a Sunday afternoon.

He didn’t even wait for Tom to leave the alley before he was putting the baggy of pills away and spilling a small pile of coke onto the back of his hand. He snorted the line with a shaking hand, then swiped up the rest onto his finger and rubbed it on his gums. 

The effect was immediate. He felt so relieved - or guilty? Klaus couldn’t really feel the difference anymore - that tears spilled down his cheeks. He leaned against the brick wall and slid to the ground. He lost some time, after that. 

Usually, when Klaus was laying on the ground of a filthy alley staring up at the light-polluted sky, he felt some level of satisfaction from the high. Some itch that was finally scratched or some hunger that was finally satisfied. Not this time though. This time he just felt… dirty. He guessed he wasn’t high enough. As he pulled a pill out of the bag and popped it into his mouth, he realized distantly that he had no idea where he was. He wondered if anyone would come looking for him. Probably not. He was a junkie, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Klaus didn’t wake up to the sound of his sister Vanya frantically checking if he had a pulse. He also didn’t wake up to her grabbing the front of his shirt and screaming in his face. What he did wake up to, however, was a drop of rain hitting his cheek. 

He flinched at the second drop, then finally opened his eyes as he realized what he was feeling was rain. All he saw was grey, and even that was somehow blurry. He rubbed his face and realized that it was raining a lot harder than he previously thought. 

“Klaus? Are you okay?” A very out of focus Vanya suddenly appeared in his vision. 

He stared at her, wishing that she would stop being blurry, as though it was something she could control. After a second, his eyes seemed to catch up with him.  
“Yeah, of course Vanya dearest,” was what he tried to say, but it came out as something much less succinct.

Vanya sighed and sat on the ground. She reached over and brushed his hair off of his forehead. She was wearing these pale blue, almost white jeans, and all Klaus could think about was how she was dirtying her pants for him. 

“We were really worried about you. You can’t just disappear in the night like that.” She mumbled, almost embarrassed. 

Klaus looked down at himself and discovered that yes, he still looked good, but his clothes were pretty dirty. He was laying on the ground of a seedy alley, after all. 

“What time is it?” 

Vanya shrugged and pulled out her phone. “We were looking for you for a few hours… it’s 6 o’clock now.” 

“In the morning?” 

Vanya made a face. “No, at night.”

“I was gone all night?” 

She frowned. “More than just all night. Almost three days.” 

Klaus stared at her. He was on his feet before she could stop him, but clearly his legs didn’t get the memo that it was time to walk. He stumbled and leaned against the wall for support. 

“Woah, Klaus take it easy!” She rushed to his side and touched a hand to his chest, again not caring that she was only getting dirtier.

“You’re wet.” He said dumbly, touching a hand to her back. Maybe he was still a little high. It’d been difficult to tell the difference lately.

She pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “Yeah, so are you. Let me call Diego and he’ll come-” 

“Nonono, please don’t.” He put a hand on her wrist to stop her. “No no. Please, can’t you and I just go back to your apartment and… I don’t know. I can’t.” 

Vanya seemed surprised. “You don’t want me to get Diego?” 

Klaus shook his head pathetically. 

“Sure, let me just tell them you’ve been found and that we need a minute.” 

“He’ll just come barrelling to your house if you tell him you won’t bring me home.” 

Vanya shakes her head and pulls out her phone. “Listen, there’s no way I’m not telling him I found you. He was sick with worry. You were missing for a long time, Klaus.” 

Klaus considered arguing, but she was right. “Okay, sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry. I’m just glad you’re safe. My apartment is close enough to walk to.” 

Vanya patted his back and helped him push himself off the wall. She interlocked their arms and walked him home. 

Vanya’s apartment was on the second floor of her building. Klaus had no idea that only one flight of stairs could be so physically draining on him, but he guessed it was probably because he couldn’t remember eating or drinking anything for the past few days. 

She deposited Klaus onto her sofa, again not caring as to how he was tarnishing her life. 

“Lemme grab you a change of clothes. You’re taller than me, but definitely thinner, so they should fit.” She was almost accusatory, like what she actually wanted to say was “eat more, you stupid junkie.” 

She left the room. Klaus took in his surroundings, but they were still fluzzy. This was definitely not a penthouse, but as far as apartments in a big city went, it was nice. Comfortable. Homey. If Klaus saw a picture of this apartment, he’d show the listing to Vanya and tell her she should sign a lease.

“I like your place. It’s very you.” 

Vanya walked back into the room with a towel and sweatpants. She’d changed into something dry, herself. “That’s funny. Allison said the same thing when she was here.” She placed a change of clothes onto the couch, then stepped behind Klaus with the towel. He watched her and subconsciously moved his arms. “Now sit still and let me help you.” 

“What are you doing?” He tried to not sound nervous, but it was hard to be calm when the last time someone was behind you with a towel you were being waterboarded after being tortured for however long he was there.

“Just gonna dry your hair, Klaus.” She stopped moving. “Is that alright?” 

Klaus didn’t say anything and stared at his lap, embarrassed. 

“Klaus, tell me if that’s okay. It’s alright if it’s not okay, but I need you to tell me.” 

He held up a hand and shook his head. “Can I do it?” 

She circled back around the couch and handed him the towel. “I’ll put on tea. Do you want to order Thai food?” 

Klaus scrubbed his hair dry. He blinked a few times to try and clear his vision. It helped to be in a room with more lighting. He stood up and pulled off his shirt, awkwardly holding the wet fabric in his hand. Vanya took it from him before he could ask what to do with it. 

“Christ Klaus.” 

“What?” He followed her gaze to his chest. 

He had a few scars from his lovely time with Hazel and Cha-Cha. There were a few fresh hickies he definitely didn’t remember getting. He saw track marks on his inner arm that he didn’t remember having. 

But mostly, he was bruised. It looked like someone took a mallet to his ribcage. There were places on his chest where the skin split. Dried blood painted his chest, but whatever wound caused the blood to be there was healed. 

She seemed to see how he was starting to tense. “Hey, let’s run you a bath, hm? Get you clean and comfortable?” 

He took her hand. She lead him down the hall, holding his hand the whole way. She kept talking to him to keep him engaged, but Klaus had already checked out.  
She seated him on the toilet. The next few minutes were a blur as Vanya helped her brother into the bathtub, cleaned his fingernails, scrubbed his back, and cleaned his hair. Her shampoo wasn’t as fancy as his, but Klaus didn’t complain. He had no idea what the hell happened and how he lost so much time. 

Klaus opened his eyes. He was staring at a dark, unfamiliar ceiling. He was rather used to waking up in unfamiliar places, so he shouldn’t be surprised. And yet, he was.  
He sat up and saw a pretty barren bedroom. There was a mirror, a dresser, a few pairs of boots and sneakers, a violin case-

Right. He was at Vanya’s house. Vanya couldn’t have carried him from the tub no matter how thin he was, but he also didn’t remember the walk to the bed. He probably hadn’t been as sober as he’d thought he was. He felt pretty damn sober now, if his headache and itchiness was anything to go by. He rubbed his face and swung his legs off the side of the bed. He made sure he had his balance before shifting his weight onto his feet. This was going to be an embarrassing conversation.

He padded to the door, but paused when he heard two voices. They were distant enough that Klaus couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. One of the two voices was Vanya’s, but he couldn’t make out the second voice. He had a feeling he knew whose it was, regardless. He pushed open the door, and immediately someone was pushing into his field of vision. 

Diego, of course. Klaus flinched from the bright light.

“Christ, Klaus. I was so worried about you.” Diego cupped the side of his face and pulled him into a tight hug. 

Klaus groaned from the strain, but hugged him back. “I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, you should be, you little shit.” Despite his words, his tone was light and full of affection. “Don’t go running off on me again. I thought we lost you.” Diego’s hand rubbed across his shoulders. 

“I’ll try not to.” Klaus mumbled. He pressed his face into Diego’s shoulder. He smelled like a straight man’s deodorant and leather. It was the only thing that felt like home anymore. 

They were embracing for a little bit too long. Klaus knew this. He knew that Diego knew this as well. Vanya definitely knew this, so she cleared her throat. Neither pulled away.

“...We ordered Thai food.”

“Did you get me red curry?” Klaus mumbled.

“Medium heat. You think I don’t remember my little brother’s order?” She smiled at him. 

"I'm not younger or smaller than you." 

Vanya folded her arms over her chest and looked at him in amusement. "So?" 

"So, how am I your little brother?" 

She shrugged. "You just are." 

Finally, Diego let Klaus go. "She's right, you know. You're the littlest sibling." 

"Besides Five, you mean. He's literally a child." 

Vanya pretended to think about it. "No, you're smaller." 

Klaus shook his head and glared at them. "My own family, working against me. Unbelievable." He walked to the couch and put his feet on the table. "Gimme my curry now." 

"Right after you get your feet off the table," Vanya commanded, holding the curry above her head. 

Klaus groaned and put his feet off the ground. Only then did Vanya pass him the take-out box of curry.

Diego and Vanya sat on either side of him, and they put on some television show on. 

Diego and Klaus had always been close. They never discussed their moments of slightly prolonged physical contact or that they were a lot closer to each other than any of the other siblings. It was the Umbrella Academy way: Ignoring emotions and pretending they don’t exist since 1989.

It wasn’t like their mutual experience of being emotionally and physically abused by Reginald Hargreeves didn’t make them all little fucked up. He never viewed them as his children, so Klaus never really viewed Diego as his brother. The rest of the Umbrella academy were his siblings. But Diego had always been different, somehow. More like a friend than anything else. 

He always thought that Diego was the only one who cared for him, but Klaus knew now that he was blind. Vanya certainly loved him, too.

She dirtied her nice couch, scrubbed his nails clean, washed his hair, and bought him food. He hadn't really thought much of her being excluded from The Umbrella Academy as a child apart from some jealousy. He really didn't want to be there, either. He wasn't sure any of his siblings did. But now, he understood what it was like to be ignored, to feel like no one cared, to be an outsider in your own home. To be invisible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! comments and kudos are appreciated!


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